


Storm

by Featherfire



Category: Free!
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-12
Updated: 2015-01-12
Packaged: 2018-03-07 08:00:40
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,387
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3167450
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Featherfire/pseuds/Featherfire
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Makoto is afraid of storms.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Storm

"On your marks..."

The swimmers bent over, grasping the starting blocks, firm muscles tensing as they prepared to push off in that first important leap. All those watching went collectively still with anticipation.

Makoto felt a thrill run through him as the signal went off, and the waiting swimmers launched themselves into the air. He followed the perfect arc of Haru's body as it sailed through empty space, entering the water with barely a splash.

"The boy in lane four is so fast!" a woman nearby commented. "And so graceful! Who is he?"

"I heard his name is Nanase..."

 _Nanase Haruka,_ Makoto corrected in his mind, feeling a swell of pride for his best friend. If he overheard people talking about _him_ this way, he only felt embarrassed, but if someone spoke about Haru, Makoto's chest filled with a triumphant feeling. Maybe this was how parents felt, he thought, and nodded slightly. Haru's parents didn't often come to his swim meets, so it fell to Makoto to be proud of him in their stead.

The swimmers approached the turn, and as they kicked off the far wall, Haru pulled way out in front of the swimmer in second place. Makoto's heart pounded as he watched. He loved watching Haru swim; his heart never beat so hard or so fast as it did when he watched Haru swim.

Haru touched the near wall several seconds ahead. A cheer went up as the swimmers bobbed to the surface, breathing heavily. Haru surfaced, pulled off his goggles and shook his hair out of his eyes in one smooth, practiced motion. He wasn't even out of breath. He never was.

Smiling triumphantly, Makoto went to the edge of the pool and offered Haru his hand. "You won, Haru-chan!" he exclaimed happily.

Haru gazed up at him placidly. "I told you to drop the -chan," he said, taking Makoto's hand and hoisting himself from the pool. He turned and glanced nonchalantly at the scoreboard, his own name in first place, then turned away and walked off. Makoto smiled. Haru didn't care about times or winning, he only wanted to feel the water. Makoto had heard him repeat that phrase often enough that even his memories spoke in Haru's voice.

In the winners' photo, Haru would be unsmiling, staring into the camera with his usual blank or even slightly bored expression. Makoto could picture it perfectly. That was Haru.

Still smiling, Makoto went to wait for the winners to receive their medals and for Haru to change so they could walk home together.

He was still waiting for his heart to calm down.

*****

In middle school, even after Haru quit swimming competitively, Makoto could still sometimes summon that heart-pounding, breath-holding feeling he got watching Haru swim. Not often, though; it made him feel guilty. He thought that if Haru knew Makoto still thought about those days, it would upset him.

"Haru!"

Haru turned and waited for Makoto to catch up. Then he turned and started walking again without a word. Makoto stayed one step behind and to the right. On land, Haru was not as graceful as he was in the water, but Makoto still just enjoyed watching him walk.

"My mom said that since it's the start of summer vacation, you can come over for dinner and spend the night tonight to celebrate," Makoto went on as they started up the stairs that led to their houses. "If that's okay?"

"Sure," Haru said, his voice expressionless as usual.

"Great. I'll see you later, then?"

"Later." At the junction of the steps Haru continued up toward the torii gate without another glance. Makoto watched him go for a moment, then turned toward his own house.

****

A storm blew in that night, the same kind of storm that came in frequently every summer in a town so close to the sea. The household was long asleep by the time the storm came in off the ocean, creeping closer with ominous rumbling. As it passed over the town, the sky broke open with a boom of thunder so loud it shook the sleeping houses.

Makoto jerked awake with a gasp as the rain began to patter on his bedroom window. _A storm,_ he thought, willing his racing heart to calm. _It's just a summer storm._ He lay still for a long moment, waiting to see if that clap of thunder woke his siblings, but relaxed when it seemed they'd stayed asleep.

He closed his eyes and tried to go back to sleep himself. He tried not to think about the ocean, so close to his home, whipped into a frothy frenzy by the storm winds, the ships moored in the harbor tossed about on the waves. Were there boats out on the ocean right now? Boats with people on them?

 _No,_ he told himself firmly. _It's the middle of the night. There aren't any boats on the open water right now._

But what if there were?

Makoto turned over, putting his back to the window. On the floor beside his bed, Haru slept on, oblivious to the storm raging outside. Makoto could see his silhouette in the flashes of intermittent lightning. He tried to use Haru's very presence to calm him. Haru wasn't afraid of anything. He was always so serene, so calm in any situation. Even when he'd almost drowned, he'd been so calm waking up on the hospital with a high fever.

_Almost drowned..._

Makoto realized he was shaking. He swallowed hard and freed one hand from his blankets. He reached down and grabbed hold of the collar of Haru's shirt, willing himself to calm down. He relaxed a little bit, feeling the warmth of Haru's body through the fabric of the borrowed nightshirt, but he could still feel himself trembling.

Haru woke. He didn't open his eyes or move at all, but somehow Makoto _sesed_ him make the transition from sleeping to wakefulness, a nearly imperceptible shift in the feel of his muscles beneath the shirt.

"What are you doing?" Haru mumbled groggily. "You'll stretch out the collar."

Nevermind the fact that Haru's shirt was actually Makoto's. "S-sorry," Makoto managed, trying to force his fingers to loosen. "I didn't mean to wake you, but I just... the storm..."

Haru sighed, very softly. Makoto felt it more than heard it over the racket the storm made. Haru moved, and Makoto noticed he made no attempt to dislodge the hand gripping his collar so tightly.

Haru knelt by the bed and gave Makoto a nudge. "Move over," he ordered shortly.

Makoto scooted back to give Haru room, and the other boy climbed in bed with him as if it was the most natural thing in the world. No comment about how a boy his age shouldn't be afraid of storms, no fanfare; Haru just slid into bed and pulled the covers up around them.

He was so warm from sleep, he made Makoto's bed feel almost hot, but it was a good sort of hot. A comforting sort of hot. The knowledge, the feeling of this other person, his dearest friend, so close beside him, so willing to quietly shield him from all his fears... Makoto relaxed. His shaking frame finally stilled.

"Now go back to sleep," Haru grumbled, burrowing down against the pillow.

In the darkess, Makoto nodded. He closed his eyes again and focused on the way Haru felt beside him: a warm, comforting weight.

Just as he was beginning to drop off again, another clap of thunder rattled his windows. Lightning illuminated the room bright as day. Makoto's eyes snapped open again, his body going tense.

"Makoto," Haru murmured. He sounded slightly annoyed, but too sleepy to be properly irritated with him. He wriggled closer. One hand came up and rested against Makoto's chest.

Makoto blinked, expecting that hand to push at him. Too hot, he thought Haru would say, but there was nothing. Just the hand, resting against his chest, gradually calming his thrumming heart.

Haru shifted, slowly, moving against Makoto in a different way than ever before. Suddenly Haru's lips were against his chin. Makoto could feel them, soft against his skin, and felt the breath from Haru's nostrils move gently against his cheek. As soon as he registered the sensation, Haru moved again, tucking his head against Makoto's shoulder.

"H-Haru?" Makoto whispered. Without knowing quite what he was doing or understanding why he did it, Makoto slid his arm partially around Haru's waist. Haru went tense for a moment---he didn't really like being touched, even by Makoto---but then relaxed, and snuggled closer.

 _Snuggle._ It was what his siblings did, fighting over who got to be closer to him. It was easier when Haru was here, because Ren and Ran thought of Haru as another brother, and they could each latch on to one of them, quietly watching the older boys played video games or studied, curling close under blankets while they watched movies. When Ren and Ran did it, it was natural, it was sweet, it was just a part of being an older brother. But when Haru did it, it caused a tingle to move through Makoto's body. He was suddenly very aware of every point of contact between his body and Haru's, especially the place his arm rested against the curve of Haru's hip, where his shirt rode up a little, exposing the skin, allowing it to touch the skin of Makoto's bare arm.

Haru's head moved again, just a tiny bit, and those soft, warm lips pressed against Makoto's neck. Makoto's breath caught. "Haru," he whispered again, but this time it came out as a sigh.

Haru's head moved a third time, away from Makoto's shoulder. At the same time, Makoto dipped his own head down, and their lips met. Makoto always expected his first kiss would be with a girl, and the very thought of it made him blush beet red from ears to neck. Girls! He didn't like to think about it. He could never kiss a girl!

But here in the darkness, kissing Haru felt as natural as breathing. Natural, and good, and _right._ There was nothing strange or wrong about kissing Haru, or touching Haru, because even though he was another boy, he was Haru. Haru was different.

Haru's hand moved, sliding slowly from Makoto's chest around his waist and onto his back. His spine arched, slowly, and his body pressed against Makoto's fully. Makoto bit back another soft noise of pleasure. That felt so _good,_ having Haru so close.

They kissed again---Makoto wasn't sure who moved first---more certain this time, their lips curving together. Slowly, carefully, hesitantly at first but with a gradually increasing sense of purpose, they used their hands to explore each other. Makoto had seen Haru's body numerous times, but he'd never _touched_ him like this.

The storm was passing now, the rain slackening and the sound of thunder becoming distant as it moved away. Makoto forgot all about ever being scared.

He didn't remember taking his shirt off, and he didn't even notice Haru had followed suit until, in a random moment of clarity, he realized there was skin under his hand and not fabric. Haru's lips were against his shoulder, trailing up toward his neck, his hands moving over Makoto's skin, caressing him like the softest breeze. Makoto's own caresses seemed clumsy by comparison.

Where had Haru learned to do this?

Even as he asked the question of himself, Makoto knew the answer. Haru was moving entirely on instinct. No one taught Haru how to do these things, of course not. Haru did things by _feel,_ using his emotions as a guide.

Everywhere Haru's fingers or lips touched him tingled as if with electricity. Makoto had never felt anything like it, but the sensation was incredible and almost maddening. He wanted more, it was almost like a craving. He wanted to beg Haru, _touch me._

All at once, he became aware of another sensation.

He was hard.

He felt his face heating, and was infinitely glad it was dark so Haru couldn't see him blush even in the flashes of lightning. He knew what an erection was, all boys got them, but he'd never had one while lying so close to another person, even Haru, and especially not _caused_ by another person like this.

Before he could react, one of Haru's hands slid down and stroked him through his shorts.

Makoto squeaked, trying to pull his body away even as his hips twitched toward the contact. "H-Haru!" he exclaimed.

Haru gazed at him unabashedly. Makoto could see his eyes glimmer. Just then, Makoto realized something else:

Haru was hard too.

Without really meaning to, Makoto always tended to think of Haru as different from other humans. Not _better,_ exactly---he knew very well that Haru had his flaws---but different. Makoto kept him on a pedastal, not given to the usual human conditions and tribulations. But just now, Haru's body was reacting the same as any normal, human boy going through puberty, the same as Makoto's own.

Makoto relaxed. Still blushing, he let his own hand slowly slip down to rest against the bulge in Haru's shorts. His heart and stomach fluttered. It was _hot._ Hotter than the rest of his body. The memory of embarrassing anatomy lessons came back to him: it was hot because of increased blood flow. Makoto swallowed hard and made his numb fingers move, just a little, giving Haru an inept rub. Haru's lips parted slightly. His hand began to move again, gently massaging through Makoto's shorts.

Makoto groaned softly, hips jerking into the touch a little. He could feel his breath rasping in his chest. It felt so good, Haru's hand on him felt more incredible than his own inexpert fumbling _ever_ could. Makoto kept his hand where it was for several moments, just resting on Haru's groin, too nervous to move it as Haru moved his.

Suddenly Haru stopped, and Makoto bit down on a whimper of loss. Why had he stopped? _Don't stop!_ he wanted to cry. But Haru wasn't stopping, only pausing---just long enough to tug Makoto's shorts down. Not all the way, just enough to expose Makoto's erection.

The first touch of Haru's hand on his tight, hot skin made Makoto moan far louder than he should have in the now quieting house. He bit his lip hard, he'd wake the whole house making noise like that! But it felt so _good..._ Haru's hand was just slightly rough and the friction was incredible.

He jerked into Haru's hand, panting softly, eyes closed, head tilted back. His own hand began to move again, almost without him realizing it, jerking Haru's shorts down almost roughly, closing his hand around him and beginning to stroke in kind. He held onto Makoto tightly with his other arm, making tiny noises in his throat as his hips twitched into Makoto's hand.

Makoto could feel something tightening, low in his body, like the tensing of a swimmer's muscles just before the jump: coiling, waiting for the signal to spring. He could hear his own heart pounding in his ears, and feel his chest constrict with his panting breath. Somewhere deep in the tiny part of his mind that could still think, this feeling was familiar, but he couldn't place it. "Oh... g-god... Haru..." Something was happening, and he didn't know what, but it was coming closer, and closer and he needed to warn Haru but he couldn't think enough to form any more words...

"Haru!" he sobbed, too loud, hips bucking frantically as that tightly coiling _something_ inside him snapped and exploded in a hot throb that shook his entire body. He didn't even know his own hand was still moving until he heard Haru's soft moan a few moments later, and felt Haru's hips jerk into his touch, a sticky warmth flowing over his fingers.

He lay there, still breathing hard, heart still hammering, his grip on Haru's softening erection loosening until he was merely just resting his hand against Haru's crotch again. _I should move, it's rude to just keep my hand there,_ he thought, but his muscles didn't want to obey him. His arms felt rubbery, his whole body felt rubbery.

Haru lay beside him, and Makoto could hear the soft hiss of his breathing. Haru, who was never out of breath even after swimming a thousand meters, was actually breathing hard!

Haru moved first, while Makoto was still lying there trying to make his arm work---not to mention his brain. The other boy sat up, and reached over to the nightstand for the box of tissues Makoto kept there.

"Haru?" Makoto said.

"We're a mess," Haru replied matter-of-factly. He wiped off his own hand and stomach, pulled his shorts back up, then began wiping off Makoto with the same gentle competence with which he did everything. Makoto lay there and let him do it, feeling useless but willing to let Haru take over, as always. He tugged Makoto's shorts back into place and tossed all his sticky tissues.

The storm was over now. The only sign of its passing was the occasional drip off the eaves of the house. Makoto finally managed to move his arm, wrapping it around Haru's waist again as Haru settled down beside him.

"You can go back to sleep now?" Haru asked.

Makoto's whole body felt relaxed, maybe more relaxed than he'd ever been in his life. "Yeah," he mumbled. He paused. "Thank you, Haru." It felt silly to be thanking him for---that---but Makoto really was grateful. Not just for tonight, but for every time Haru made him completely forget his sadness or fear. Simply saying "thank you" wasn't enough to convey how deeply he felt, but those words were all he had.

Haru just grunted at him, and tilted his head up to kiss Makoto's cheek lightly.

Makoto sighed and held Haru close. He wasn't afraid anymore, but it still felt good and right to have Haru close. He closed his eyes and let their breathing sync, and dropped off within moments.

*****

When Ran and Ren came in to wake them the next morning, one launching at each of them and landing on him full-body, Haru was back on the floor. Makoto never felt him get out of bed, and he didn't have time to be disappointed with Ren bouncing on him enthusiastically and shouting "Wake up, onii-san!"

"I'm up, I'm up," he laughed, snagging an arm around Ren's waist to stop him from slamming his entire body into Makoto's very full bladder.

"Wake up, Haru onii-san!" Ran crowed. The futon had no inner springs, of course, so she couldn't bounce as vigrously as Ren, but she seemed to be attempting to make up for it in volume.

Haru sat up, smiling very slightly, and Ran giggled and threw her arms around Haru's neck. He stood up, with Ran still hanging off him.

Makoto smiled. Haru didn't really get along with people, but he didn't seem to mind children---or at least, he didn't mind Makoto's siblings. This was a good thing, as Ran and Ren _adored_ their big brother Haru, and Makoto would feel terrible if the feelings weren't returned at least a little.

Watching Haru walk toward the door, patiently explaining to Ran that she had to let go and let him use the bathroom, the sight of the way Haru's shorts hugged his bottom made Makoto's heart skip a beat, his stomach tighten a little. In that moment, he realized what he'd been unable to pinpoint the night before.

He'd thought that nothing could replicate what he felt watching Haru race: the pounding heart, the shortened breath, the tensing of his own body as Haru reached for the wall.

Last night hadn't really been the same, but it was close... and so much more. And just as he could never get enough of watching Haru swim, Makoto knew he would want to experience that feeling again and again.

As Haru reached the door, finally succeeding in dislodging Ran, he turned and glanced at Makoto over his shoulder. The look in his eyes, a fleeting but palpable smolder that made Makoto's breath catch, said that Haru felt exactly the same way.


End file.
